Tag: Haven Yells About Stuff

asksecularwitch:

traegorn:

asksecularwitch:

traegorn:

asksecularwitch:

@traegorn

Actually, I have heard of the revoking baptism and reversing the lords prayer as a mechanism for becoming a witch. Especially in forms of practice that emphasize a hand in hand form with the Devil (in some sense christian in other senses not christian).

Just as I have heard about walking into the mountains with a loaded revolver and silver bullets to shoot the moon and cause it to turn red.

If its the first time you’ve heard of that form of initiatory practice for a witch, I am not too surprised though. I invested minor time in looking into alternatives to initiation as a witch. The shooting the moon one I learned from NWW i believe.

But the reversal and other things I had heard / read in some cases from the witch trails in Europe if I am not mistaken in memory of where I had heard that.

I mean, I really just hadn’t heard of it, and mostly I was just saying it didn’t represent my experiences. Like I’m still not convinced it’s a widespread thing.

But you have to remember —

  1. I have never been a Christian, and have probably only heard the Lord’s Prayer forwards less than a dozen times in my life.
  2. Admittedly I’m a Wiccan, and therefore most beginner books I’ve read came from this angle — and we like to avoid overt Christian references in our practices.
  3. My assertion that it isn’t widespread is not an assertion that it is an illegitimate practice.

Mostly I was just sort of surprised.

I think the majority of the stand offishness with regards to people not wanting anything to do with Christianity (in New Age books), is exactly the representation of denoucing any christian actions that people have had.

I’ve had a lot of conversations with other witches that most of them are converts from one form of Christianity or another. Some of them turned openly against the churches they belong to, some of them didnt feel it was necessary to renoucing those concepts because that wasnt the type or kind of Christianity they had. (Ie, they had a kind where you just needed to believe in Christ and thats that. Not a whole system which is literally tracking you and what your doing and what rites you have and have not been given).

People forget that Christianity is a mystery religion (baptism is a mystery) just like Wicca is (in your case).

Think about what you would want if you ever left Wicca. Do you want to break your Wiccan initiation rites? How would you do that?

To me, this concrete separation and cutting of ties is absurdly common and a discussion I have had with people across the years. I am just surprised that people feel so against the idea that people would come up with ways to do that.

I don’t think I’m remotely against it, but I can see why someone would be?

Like to require renouncing something arguably could be seen as an endorsement of its validity? Like I think that point of view comes from the idea that if a contract was never valid, it doesn’t need to be broken. Like having to overtly break it somehow means a part of the person still sees it as true?

The counter is obvious — that even a dedication to a faith a person now deems illegitimate was still a dedication a person made, and the need to overtly disconnect can be therapeutic and validating. But not everyone comes from that point of view.

It’s a complicated, deeply personal thing.

I think its a point of closure as well. It was valid for that person until that point, and now its over and done with in a way that finishes it up.

You are right that it is a deeply personal thing, but so is working anything related to yourself. If that particular tradition views it as important to close something down, to separate yourself from it permanently, then that is a deeply personal decision.

I think its wrong headed to just jump back from something and stamp your foot (not that you were but that other replies where) with things like how dare you do that and how dare that be a requirement for certain practices. /scoff without considering the obvious point of it.

Closure. An end. A place where you cannot return to.

In almost a way of sacrificing it for something else.

I can see that in that mindset. And I see it as respectful as well, in some ways. Like I respected this religion enough to profane the ties I had to it. If that makes sense? Not to go on my days with a did i/didnt i? Type of deal.

Am i still technically part of this religion i have not actively participated in for years? Etc.

That is, in some ways, why I personally performed a retrieval and severing before beginning in earnest with the Morrigan. (Couldn’t follow up this Samhain due to new health issues, there is always Yule, which was my six week consideration period last contract ANYWAY. Hem. I digress-)

I DID view the contract as made under duress and with very many faults indeed. I called individually on the members of my personal pantheon, asking their specific help and the loan of a few attributes per entity, and asked Morrigan/the Morrigans to bear witness. Since, in my view, I was going to do battle with a Deity on their own ground. In my opinion, asking the war deity; specifically a war deity connected to self sovereignty and vows; you’re engaging with to watch as I renounce vows and assert my self sovereignty is a little… on the nose, yeah?

 I brought my complaints and my wounds before the god I was forced to serve as a child, without consent or understanding, and compared what had happened to me, to what he claimed in his own book to be about. None of it matched up. And a god that allows his followers to be so vile to CHILDREN is not a god I want to follow. I cut those ties, declared my autonomy, renounced my baptism; which in my view was impeding my involvement with other pantheons via “I am a jealous god” “the indwelling of the spirit” “no other gods before me”; I renounced the fellowship, and promised not to seek them out nor reproach them for remaining under the aegis of the church if that’s their desired place. 

Not everyone needs to do that. Not everyone suffered the abuse I did. Not everyone feels the need to differentiate between parts of their life so strongly, and not everyone needs to make that separation that… distinctive. And, definitely, not everyone wants to approach the Throne of Heaven to have words with the Christian Trinity. 

Me? I was pissed off, traumatized, and had recently ironed out the source of that trauma. I wouldn’t necessarily say I was possessed of God-Killer Rage in that moment, but I was definitely pissed and feeling betrayed. I did what I thought was necessary, and in the instances of “I can TELL people are praying over me” chain-yanking have drastically increased. 

I call that a win.

the-clockwork-crows:

moral-autism:

mitoticcephalopod:

professor-homosexual:

mitoticcephalopod:

skatergloss:

fyxan:

men’s loyalty to violence is disturbing.  when women want a life free of abuse, assault, threat, & coercion, men’s first suggestion is “learn to fight back. learn to defend yourself”.  i don’t want my life to be a fight.  i don’t want to “prove myself” through inflicting pain & fear. 
i don’t find violence and physical conflict fulfilling or self-actualising.  

they’re exhausting & dehumanizing

Tea only

Can we not reblog radfem shit

i hate it when there’s a post that makes a legit good point and then the op turns out to be a terrible person

This isn’t a good point lol.

Men experience more street violence than women do, they just end up actually defending themselves because they haven’t been taught to be defenseless their whole lives by a horrible sexist society.

*buy a fucking gun*

sometimes people are too mentally ill or otherwise disabled or what have you for gun ownership to be a good choice for them, and are also not able to, IDK, do advanced martial arts training all the time

not everyone can just go buy a gun or even be in a plausibly-armed reference class and these people still deserve safety

also IIRC most of those male numbers are about gang members? self defense tip: don’t join a gang if avoidable.

I still maintain that the point is terrible. Men are not “loyal to violence” I will grant that many men (myself included) enjoy recreational violence, but the when it comes the specific scenarios mentioned it is because of the acknowledgement of the reality that the only way to ensure a life which is consistently free of these things is to be able to deal with them yourself. Whilst we as a society should absolutely strive to rid ourselves of these things A. That’s long term B. They will always exist in some guise, and thus we go back to the previous point.

Transdude here. 

I’m not “loyal to violence.” What I am is pragmatic with an very active self-preservation instinct. My existence is an affront to god, so they tell me. The point here isn’t “whose god?” the point is there are people who will do violence TO me and expect their deity to reward them for it. 

If I want a life free of violence, I need to be responsible for my own safety. I need to know how to deescalate a situation and stop it before it goes further. Sometimes, yes, that means buying a fucking gun and knowing how to use it. My survival and the survival of those I love means more to me than any rhetoric you choose to shove in my direction.

I don’t want my life to be a fight either. But it is. Because I exist. And that’s fucking exhausting, I get it. But wanting to survive to see tomorrow isn’t “loyal to violence.” It’s loyal to being a living, breathing, being alive until my time is up.

And even IF you wanted to make this about “cis guys are so violent hurr durr” uh, YEAH? Biology and Evolution have conspired to make them that way. For the same reason you get the anxious sweats in new and unfamiliar situations, men have the desire to work out their aggression and emotions in recreationally violent ways via sports, gyms, and other ways. Physical exertion is great like that, and learning your body and what it can do can be excellent for the mind. 

When I’m in turmoil I LOVE going to the gym. Sure dysphoria sucks but I’d rather be shaping my body and getting fit than languishing in bed bemoaning my fate. 

That’s the difference. Instead of sitting on my hands and being pissed that I might literally have to fight to survive, I’m doing my best to DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. YES it’s exhausting. (And when you also experience chronic fatigue and health issues, boy howdy it fuckin sucks~) Yes, it feels dehumanizing to have to fight for what others are “given naturally.” (They’re really not tho, you’re seeing the results without being involved in the process, that’s misleading af btw.)

Yeah, my life might end in a violent altercation because someone doesn’t like my combination of body parts or lack therof. I could also die in a car crash. It’s about risk mitigation, wherever possible. Sure I could be paranoid about it, or I could take steps to self-soothe and reassure myself in my ability to defend what I hold dear. 

Personally, I know what I’d choose. So either do that, or IDK, stay home and pout I guess…?

surelytomorrow:

moniquill:

rubyvroom:

Can I watch a great film knowing the actresses in it were terrorized and mistreated the entire time? Can I watch a football game knowing that the players are getting brain injuries right before my eyes? Can I listen to my favorite albums anymore knowing that the singers were all beating their wives in between studio sessions? Can I eat at the new fancy taco place knowing when the building that used to be there got bulldozed eight families got kicked out of their homes so they could be replaced with condos and a chain restaurant? Can I wear the affordable clothes I bought downtown that were probably assembled in a sweatshop with child labor? Can I eat quinoa?

Can I eat this burger? Can I drink this bottled water? Can I buy a car and drive to work because I’m sick of taking an hour each way on the subway? Whose bones do I stand on? Whose bones am I standing on right now? 

On one hand, it’s a privilege to be able to choose to acknowledge these horrors or not–we’re going to acknowledge that privilege. On the other hand, I once attended a lecture by the explorerer-conservationist Jacques-Yves Cousteau’s daughter and son and they had a lot of opinions about what we could do to help the environment and the ocean and I talked about how in my country, we have to drink bottled water, because it’s a desert and there’s only salt water all around, but we’re contributing to pollution and all of these things…

And she looked at me and told me not to fall into the trap of “activist guilt.” I couldn’t remember the exact words, but, it was the first time I’d heard the term and it took a weight off my shoulders.

We do what we can. It’s so much better than giving up entirely or not doing anything at all because we can’t do it perfectly. It doesn’t benefit anyone in the end if we just sit around feeling guilty about every little thing in life. I’d just joined tumblr back then (haha, so like, eight or nine years ago at this point?), I was being exposed to way more than I’d ever been before (I was previously just into feminism and animal rights/wildlife conservation/environmentalism since I was a kid), and it was weighing on me.

As long as humans are humans and living flawed lives, many consumed by greed, there will not be anything in this world untouched by evil.

I usually avoid stuff that says it was made in China or other cheap looking knockoffs, out of fear of them being made in sweatshops (now, I know even a lot of big brands use those…), it’s exhausting. Then, I read something about how people who actually lived and worked in those would still buy this cheap stuff and how this shocked the foreigner reporting on it, but they just looked confused like, it’s what they can afford and them avoiding consuming it isn’t going to change the whole system from the ground-up.

… it went on about how “money talks” and choosing where to put your money still feeds the whole capitalist system and is nearly a way of comforting yourself, but you not buying doesn’t mean everyone else isn’t. What needs to be tackled is at a much higher level than any of us can reach.

Of course, I’d still, given the choice, give my money to companies I agree with and I’ll boycott what I know to support awful stuff, but I also feel no superiority over this and know now it’s not as black and white or easy as I thought it was.

This is the same reason that moral purity “you can’t enjoy [x] because it’s Problematic ™” is such nonsense, because nothing is pure. There’s something bad about everything if you dig deep enough. As long as we lived in flawed human societies we’ve got to make the best of what they offer us. If you have the choice and means, please, do support those who do good, but also, don’t beat yourself up over not living up to an unattainable ideal.

No one can. You’ll just make yourself so miserable, you either burn up and stop fighting entirely or you’ll make yourself a non-productive, depressed heap just out of a bleeding heart left unchecked. You can’t make a change to this world if you refuse to engage in it.

Have a related article with self-care tips for activists.

You can’t make a change to this world if you refuse to engage in it.


Which is why, in my opinion, the better world religions don’t lionize the monks on the mountaintop, but rather demand that if they want to be “holy” they engage with the people they’re supposed to be helping.

lenyberry:

nuclearspaceheater:

lenyberry:

earlgraytay:

evecolours:

the-exercist:

This meme has always made me uncomfortable, because it actually sends such a horrible message about body image and media.

That lovely rhino is aiming for a goal that is literally impossible for it to achieve. Unicorns don’t exist. They’re a figure in fantasy, created by creative marketers. Especially in an age of image manipulation and Photoshop, even the horse who modeled for that photo doesn’t look like a unicorn in real life – It’s an unreachable ideal.

Even if unicorns did exist, that little rhino is still a rhino. It can’t change it’s species or become a different creature. No matter how hard it works, no matter how hard it tries, it’s still going to be a rhino. Dedication won’t change its DNA.

You know what a better message would be? Become the best version of yourself. That little rhino can certainly be stronger, faster and happier over time. But it needs to set realistic goals and start to appreciate the body that it has, as opposed to lusting after something as unattainable as a unicorn. If it continues aiming for the image on that poster and is only ever deriving inspiration from such a narrow ideal? Poor little rhino is always going to be disappointed, no matter how far it goes.  

I’ll be happy if I never see this image again.

Couldn’t agree more. I read something the other day with made me feel uneasy. Someone called Meghan a heffer, now I know this girl and she’s a huge fan of Meghan so she explained to someone confronting her, that it’s actually a term of endearment where she’s from. And I believe her of course. That was not my point though. The blogger confronting that lovely girl asked how is Meghan a heffer. When things were settled between them, she said it’s such a bad word and usually used for people who are larger, bigger. And I wondered, then why would you say how’s Meghan a heffer. Why not ask someone to explain what makes it right to use that word on anyone. Big or not big. Because it isn’t. My friend’s daughter came home one day crying, apparently some girl had called her a heffer (in Dutch of course). The little bully’s parents response was oh she’s not a big girl so you can’t say that. Thus implying to the their little girl that it would be okay to call someone heffer if they are bigger than some of the others. Now I know the blogger who confronted the girl here on Tumblr as well and I know she didn’t mean it like that at all, she’s a lovely person actually, but for a moment it brought me back to that little girl and those big sad tears.

I’ve been lucky, I’ve never been bullied at all about looks or weight. Nowadays kids feel bullied from day one, simply because of social media and the media, for painting such an unrealistic picture. For setting standards which can’t be met. I’m very happy I’m not a child at this day and age.

See… I’ve always liked that picture, for very similar reasons to the ones why y’all hate it.

If you’re mentally ill/chronically ill, especially if you’re depressed, your ‘best self’ can seem just as unattainable as the photoshopped unrealistic narrow ideal of that unicorn. It’s something other people get to be, but you don’t.  Because you’re ‘worthless’/’stupid’/’ugly’, what have you. And if you’re disabled, there’s parts of your dream you’re not gonna be able to have, plain and simple. 

But you keep going anyway. Because even if you’re not going to be able to be a unicorn, the things that will maybe, possibly get you there are also the things that will make you a happy, healthy rhino. 

I agree that making it specifically about exercise is kinda fuck’t, but… yeah. 

As a metaphor for aiming at your goals despite disability, it’s not shit. It’s crap as fitspo, obviously, because unhealthy obsession with an unrealistic image is not good, but… yeah, what @earlgraytay said. Maybe you can’t be a unicorn, but sometimes aiming to get as close as you can still gets you to be a happier and healthier rhino than you would be if you didn’t even make an attempt to hit the goal. Maybe your Aspirational Life is unattainable, but maybe you can keep sneaking closer and closer to it even if you can’t get all the things. Maybe you can’t be a martha-stewart-pinterest-queen but you can… learn to cook a few nice dishes that don’t take TOO much effort, to maintain your living space at a tidiness level somewhere above “total pigsty” even if you’re never gonna hit “magazine-ready”, and learn to crochet and make a nice doily to put a little centerpiece up on your kitchen table that you like. Maybe you can’t be a big-shot author but you can write some short stories and get published in a magazine or two. Maybe you can’t be a rockstar but you can make music anyway and enjoy the creative process nonetheless. 

And heck, maybe if you try for the closest you can get, you get stupid lucky and a genie comes along and turns your rhino-ass self into a real goddamn unicorn. Maybe your home-decor instagram really takes off and you actually make it to martha-stewart levels of fame. Maybe you DO land a damn good book deal. Maybe your little home-produced record gets into the hands of the right person with the right connections to turn you into a rockstar and they like it enough to use that power on you. 

Probably not. Luck is a huge factor. But it’s still probably better to try to get as close as possible to living your ideal life and fall short of The Aspirational Pinnacle of the goal, than to wallow around in self-pity about the fact that you didn’t get lucky enough to be born in circumstances that make it easy. Just don’t obsess about it and make yourself miserable about not being there, and don’t push yourself so hard that you do damage. 

The rhino is obviously just getting into better shape as part of their quest to bang that unicorn.

Geeze.

and there’s yet another possible perspective to take!

I uhhhh… I’m with @nuclearspaceheater on this one guys.

Also yes a rhino will never be a unicorn, granted. But EMULATING your ideal is never a bad thing when it’s done in healthy ways. I love the look of runner’s bodies but I’m never going to be a runner. My bad knee and joint issues make sure I won’t. But I CAN get on the elliptical, which is MUCH better for my joints, and go a couple miles in the gym when I’m there. I CAN eat like a runner and focus on lean protein and healthy foods and train my body to get CLOSER to their build. 

I’ll never be a twiggy person, I know that. My body shape is wrong for it and my bones don’t work that way… but I CAN change my body to look MORE that way by focusing on lengthening and toning my muscles and losing weight in key places and gaining muscle mass in others so I’m more BALANCED and LEAN LOOKING. 

It’s not automatically a negative thing to have someone with a vastly different body type as your goal. Not as long as you’re realistic and healthy in your approach. Also, it’s kind of disconcerting how many people are focusing in on real-world negativity on what was probably a throwaway joke image. Because telling me when I was 170+ post-op that “you’ll never be skinny” wouldn’t have done anything but increase my dysphoria and depression past the suicidal ideation I was already experiencing. 

Yanno what DID work? Finding a sport that I LOVE; cycling; and GETTING MY BUTT OUT OF THE HOUSE AND OUT OF MY CHAIR. You know what worked? setting REALISTIC GOALS for myself to bring my weight down, eat better, and then start MAINTAINING that progress. Yeah, the scale is climbing back up again because this medication is throwing me for a loop. But hey, I’ll take 140, or even 145, over being MEDICALLY OBESE and having NO energy and a multitude of issues like joint pain, back aches, and worse.

It’s a cartoon rhino, it’s not that deep.

can’t even attempt mowing the front lawn without nearly passing out and/or getting hideously nauseous. the city people are coming this afternoon to make sure we’re “regulation.” 

bitch I had major surgery in february. i’m currently being diagnosed for all sorts of shit. APPARENTLY i have a fucking thyroid problem. i was out there for half a god-damned hour trying to tame the beast after how much rain we’ve gotten. I’m allergic to the wasps building a nest by my front door and potentially in the bushes. Again. 

It’s currently 85F, 88% humidity, and I can’t handle that anymore APPARENTLY. fml. i hate everything about today.

@volari

Glad you skipped the Reaper, t’would be a loss. Dare I ask what happened?

First, thank you! I really appreciate it 🙂

Soooo. Ok. The local greenway in my city is flooded all to fuck. There are actual flowing rivers where there shouldn’t be, and the trail is covered in toe-deep to hip-deep water depending on what area you’re in. (The trail runs from about 50-350ft below street level just for information’s sake.) 

I’ve made the mistake twice in the past week of trying to bike down there because I figured “it hasn’t rained in X days, I’m sure it’s fiiiiiiiine.” It’s NOT fine.

image

This section of trail was flooded right in front of me… I was wet to the ankles.

image

This is the lowest water level in the surrounding five miles of trail. Just over the hill on the right hand side of this photo….? It was past my knees. And I was on a BIKE. -.- (there are pictures of my soaking wet feet and drenched bike. ‘m not posting those.)

so that brings us to today~ what’s a bored houseboy to do when the greenway is flooded to fuck and there’s nothing to do at home? Bike out to the nearest bookstore of course! Coffee! Books! Journalling! Rh’yleh can come along, I’ll take cute pics of the bun, it’ll be awesome~ 

It’s supposed to be around 6-7 miles out, 6-7 miles back, with a sizable break in between. I got lost on the way out due to one street not having sidewalks and only one lane; I can’t keep up with traffic so I decided fuck this, I’ll go home. Nah. my Partner texts me about another way through on residential side streets. I’m exhausted and shaking due to the heat and humidity; 96F, 60%; and I’m already going to be burned to fuck…. might as well? 

I OVERSHOOT the side street by a good two miles. I have to pass yelling and whistling Hispanic road crew. Twice. Which yeah, isn’t making me feel any better or safer in this god damned wreck of a morning-turned-afternoon. I have to redo the same half-mile stretch FIVE. GOD DAMNED. TIMES. looking for the street sign, only to find that it is, in fact, a GATED COMMUNITY and there’s no way in fuck I’m getting through. There are also no other side streets that won’t take me ridiculously far out of my way. So~ I turn around and go home.

On the way back, I overshoot my required road because of how exhausted I am and the fact that I’m basically just slumped over watching my front tire. So my entire trip ends up being about sixTEEN miles, instead of six twice. I hate everything, at this point. I’m burned, I’m shaking, I’ve stopped sweating and I can FEEL the salt crusting on my face. I’ve had to take six breaks in the past 45 minutes just so I don’t collapse and/or vomit. 

So FINALLY. SOME HOW. I make it out of the hellish neighborhoods and residentials back onto my home stretch. I’m several miles from home still, but I know this corner and there’s a gas station. I pull in. I’m BARELY through the door and this lady takes one look at me; literally about to fall over, dehydrated, in the first stages of heat exhaustion if not all the way into it; and says

“YOUR BAG NEEDS TO STAY IN YOUR VEHICLE. WE DON’T ALLOW BACKPACKS.” 

…Bitch WHAT? 

1: I’ve been coming here since I moved in. Four years ago. It’s never been a problem; even with an actual backpack.
2: It’s a sling bag. Not a backpack. And also it’s smaller than most purses.
3: I BIKE. Like FUCK it’s staying “in my vehicle.” 
4: I’m nauseous, dehydrated, and about to fall over. Are you REALLY making this an issue?

I just tell her the first one, and she is RAGING, like, instantly, that I would dare to talk back to her. (tall black woman, btw.) “It’s ALWAYS been our policy, of COURSE it’s an issue. Take the bag out, or leave.” 
“I bike lady, so yeah, bye~” I may or may not have said “get fucked” under my breath as I walked out, contemplating flipping off the security cameras in my delirium. 

So, then I biked the last three-ish miles home WITHOUT my drink. Which sucks because I was out of water completely, and they had a slushie that looked REALLY good that now I’m never going to try because I’ll be DAMNED if I ever set foot in that place again. You’re not getting my 15$ on snacks + drinks ever again, bitch~ 🙂 

When I managed to make it in the front door, I essentially collapsed in a salty sweaty pile until I could breathe normal and the shakes stopped, and took a shower. I’ve since gotten my drink, had some food, and I’m basically recovered. If INSANELY burned all down my arms. I have an actual tan line from my freakin riding gloves.

So, how was YOUR day?

That Damn Cat!

I woke up just before five this morning. I decided I wanted tea, as you do. Turns out my new teacups are not microwave safe. (Few are.) so I need the kettle. 

There is no room to fill the kettle. One side of the sink has required cleaning for weeks, with some truly grody dishes waiting for me because, quelle surprise! being in a depressive funk will do that to a person. So… I start tackling the dishes. Grumbling some too, because there are MORE dishes now on the “utterly filthy don’t put anything else in there or risk contaminating it!” side of the sink… for some reason.

So… I start in on ALL of them. And then proceed to turn the water as hot as possible to tackle some of the glass cups I know will scrub off if I just practically boil them and wash them a dozen times. (they have a cut pattern so… extra cleaning is very necessary.) It takes me two hours. I say what the fuck, I’ll scrub out the stainless steel sink with some brillo, and then sweep and scrub the spots off the floor. I do that…

I need a shower. Pretty desperately, at this point. so I leave everything; including my partner’s tea kettle/brew master thing; recently scrubbed and pretty and go to get a shower. Well… fuck. Ok so the shower is a mess and fuck this bathroom. So, what do? I spray the shower with foaming soap, scrub off the sink, sweep and dust-buster the floor, and rinse down the sink and the bathroom ledge. (It’s important to note, the ledge is INSIDE the shower.) 

I start to scoop out the litter tray and take out the trash… as soon as my back is turned, I hear a loud crash and the sound of water. 

That FUCKING GOD DAMNED CAT tried to jump on the ledge, got caught on the shower hose; our showerhead attaches to a hose for ease of self and shower cleaning; and BROKE THE RING that holds it onto the wall mount. So I have to go wrap a towel around the fucking mount, unscrew the hose, and push down the stopper so water stops running to the shower head.

I was reduced to kneeling on the shower floor, taking a splash bath, just to get clean enough so I can now go to Target, pick up a NEW shower head, and try to install it. I officially hate everything.

delicatelygloriouspenguin:

aaronsmithtumbler:

Older forms of English kept Latin’s gender-specific suffixes -tor and -trix;  tor is for men and trix is for women. So a male pilot is an aviator, a female pilot is an aviatrix. A male fighter is a gladiator, a female fighter is a gladiatrix.

This contrasts with the modern system, where tor is for both men and women, and trix are for kids.

@eriquin @mathisthemathwizard

…… GOD DAMN IT LINGUISTIC DRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFT!!!!!!!!

I went thrifting this morning because I wasn’t feeling up to the gym… I found a GORGEOUS Irish Coffee glass and saucer, a new salad bowl to help encourage my (lack of) portion control in the effort to loose some extra weight, and two truly lovely vintage stoneware tea cups. 

Nine hours later I’m bored, so what do I do? Go back to poke around! This time, I was SO LUCKY and found another hidden four tea cups, AND miniature Glencairns for Scotch!!! 

Those small glasses on the bottom right MIGHT be Liqueur glasses… or mini brandy snifters. I’m not terribly certain, but they look perfect for what’s left of my Creme De Violette.

I wish to holy hells they had more of those Irish Coffee glasses in the same style. I looked for an hour but just couldn’t find any. :/